Work Text:
prelude
“in 2 or 3 years, my kid will get sold to the zen’in clan. do whatever you want.”
scene 1.
fushiguro megumi feels like throwing up.
when they were in that juvenile center, fushiguro megumi feels the sickening sensation at the bottom of his abdomen, churning with dread and lingered in fear from the special grade cursed spirit that appeared out of nowhere.
fushiguro megumi feels the unease as he awaits itadori’s arrival from outside, staying under the rain’s influence.
he feels frightened with the thought of him never coming back. he feels unease in taking responsibility when it becomes necessary.
the false sense of security that washes over him when he sees itadori is replaced with fright when he sees sukuna ryomen instead.
his body is engulfed with ache when he comes flying across buildings, hitting concrete after concrete, wood and objects all the same.
he’s in utter pain when he has to stand over itadori who was pooling in his own blood, when he had to carry him to the car, when he had to come down to the morgue with his lifeless body in his arms.
all he feels is nothing when he had to inform gojo about what happened. but is that the case, really?
scene 2.
fushiguro megumi is digusted.
— live a long life.
“doesn’t mean much when you go and die yourself.” nobara mutters under her breath as she leans against her palm.
“…”
“is this your first time having a partner die?” there is no hesitance in her voice at all when she asks this.
“first time for one my age.” fushiguro replies after a small pause.
“you seem to be taking it well.” kugisaki blatantly remarks.
no, he’s not.
he's spent sleepless nights with itadori’s smile and dying words echoing in his mind.
curling up in his blankets, as though as he was a fragile child, quivering from the cold, searching for that certain warmth he seems to never grasp.
shivering with an unreasonable sensation of danger, endless streams of tears that cascade down his cheeks, helpless sobs muffled into the expanse of his pillow.
he is not taking it well.
“same to you.”
no, she’s not taking it well.
fushiguro knowing eyes can see that. the clear denial in her statements, the tremble of her lips after the harsh lies that she utter for her heart’s protection.
he knows it all too well. he doesn’t do anything about it. all he can do is watch her break down into a mess that she desperately pieces back together.
he’s disgusted by himself. what he needs to know is already there and yet, he’s helpless in the face of it.
he’s blessed with knowledge and in turn, he’s cursed of not being able to do anything with it.
what a cruel turn of fate.
scene 3.
fushiguro megumi is poisoned.
he feels the plant draw out what’s remaining of his cursed energy.
he’s frustrated as he’s rendered useless for another battle, forcibly having to pass the duty to itadori and todo.
“it’s okay.” itadori smiles.
“please.”
he feels the weight of both phrases, heavy within his chest.
he might lose yuuji again just when he’s got back.
“if you die again, i’ll kill you myself!” he’s frustrated when he can only think of saying those out loud, when that’s all he can squeeze from his thoughts.
but it’s okay.
it will be okay.
it’s all that he needs for now.
scene 4.
fushiguro megumi feels the sensation of dread swallow his heart.
“fushiguro!” he listens to the vibrant sound of itadori’s voice as he came hopping towards his way, only to be pulled into an embrace.
when the warmth wraps around him like cellophane, it melts the walls he’s put up. but he doesn’t resist it; instead, accepting the kind offer the other boy gave.
how could he refuse when he can hear the pounding of itadori’s heart against his ribcage? it resonates against his ear, fleeting, yet gently rumbling from within. it soothed him better than the medicine he takes for attacks; his shoulders are not tense anymore, gradually slacking down as he spends more than just a minute in yuuji’s arms.
fushiguro’s own heart is relieved. the small pieces of him are slowly being gathered, and put back together. there are remaining cracks of the discordance that occured, but it was better than anything he had.
“fushiguro…” yuuji’s soft voice coos, as though he was coaxing him into parting from the hug for a while.
megumi’s eyes squeeze shut in desperation as he practically buries his face against the other’s chest. his voice wouldn’t come out at first, but when it does, it’s meek, whimpering like a frightened puppy. “can i… can we stay like this for a bit more?”
itadori’s breath hitches when he hears the small crack in his voice, tears brimming by the corner of eyes. a wistful smile paints on his lips like watery tint of pink. “of course.”
a hand cards through the erratic tresses of megumi’s hair — gentle and calm like the waves of the sea, washing over him. carressing the smooth ends of strands and massaging the expanse of his scalp all the same.
megumi only sighs in relief as he falls into a puddle of himself between yuuji’s hold.
“i’ll stay for as long as you need.”
there is nothing more that fushiguro needed than itadori’s presence, and he’s drowning in it.
scene 5.
fushiguro megumi was a bit of a misanthropist when he was younger.
‘i hate bad people.’ he utters with a hint of hatred to the tone of his voice. ‘they act so superior when their empathy and imagination are as empty as a vacant lot.’
he continues, ‘i’m not fond of good people. they forgive those bad people then they view the act of forgiveness as a noble thing. makes me want to vomit. tsumiki is an example of a good person.’
“you’re disgusting.” megumi emphasises each syllable with visible displeasure, turning his back to walk away from his sister.
it was all stupid. how his father left them so easily, why this suspicious white-haired man bought him with the promise of becoming a jujutsu sorcerer as collateral.
who the hell would he ever save, when he can’t even save himself from this cycle of misery.
tsumiki always spouted about pretty ideals and all that, despite the trauma all these things have given them. he thought of it as somewhat hypocritical of her, but he realizes too late of what he needed to know.
he wants to apologize for all the hateful things he’s done and said.
but for fuck’s sake, he is just a kid.
he needed someone to teach him all the things he didn’t have to learn by himself.
scene 6.
fushiguro megumi is restless.
first, gojo-sensei being sealed, and now, nanami’s protecting him just so he can maintain his domain expansion within the cursed spirit’s.
but all that yields is a man in a creme sweater, moving in swift, skillful motions, displaying fortified strength of years’ training.
he threw megumi across the building window ridiculously fast, like chasing a rabbit down to sink his fangs on the prey.
only when he’s finally pushed the blade on the side of his stomach that he’s spoken, “hey. what’s your name?”
what..?
“fushiguro.”
“not zen’in, huh? good for you.”
why did he ask that? what did he mean it’s good that it’s not zen’in? how did he know that he was supposed to be zen’in?
why, why why?
why is it that when he spoke to him, it was with a strange sense of fondness?
it was annoying him to the core. and he has to stab himself in the head too. there was no way for him to know anymore.
he’s cursed with the fact that he’ll never be able to find out about the things that he wanted to know.
interlude.
fushiguro megumi hates his given name.
it meant ‘blessings.’ it was feminine. it was given by his father.
he doesn’t want to hate it. it sounds gentle at the tip of his tongue, so kind, mellow, graceful.
“what's your name?"
"...? fushiguro."
“not zen'in, huh? good for you."
the scene kept replaying in megumi's eyes like a video on loop. he's left as a mush of feelings - puzzled, agitated, curious and more than he can count.
that name didn't matter to him - the name megumi did.
why did you give me that?
that gentle sound of a name?
i don't hate it. but I wanted to curse you with it. now that you're gone, it breaks me that i still don’t know what this name meant to you.
scene 7.
fushiguro megumi has a caution of death. he knows it.
“with this treasure, i summon eight-handled sword divergent sila divine general mahoraga.”
was he thinking when he did this?
he is. he’s definitely thought over it, time and time again.
he’s reckless enough to risk his life for this, having attempted two times already.
and he doesn’t care.
“i’ll be the first to pass on. good luck.” he grins with a maniacal gaze.
this is the only use he has for, and might as well leave a delightful gift before meeting his demise.
‘i’ll see you later. sorry, itadori.’
when red runs down his vision, he does not resist the darkness that comes to take over and embraces it.
but he does regret not being able to fulfill the promise he made.
scene 8.
fushiguro megumi is anxious.
he’s still alive, saved by sukuna from the ritual and healed by him as well.
it’s a strange thing but he’ll keep it in mind that he might have some scheme for doing this.
but his biggest fear is that he’s separated from yuuji for so long again.
one of his hands reach out to pet kūro’s head, who whimpers weakly under his caress.
he bites on his lip as he sees himself in his dark-haired friend — a lovesick fool.
what is itadori doing right now?
is he safe?
is he okay?
will they meet again?
endless streams of thoughts flood the void of his head, overflowing it with another voice that he feared so much, telling him that he’s not strong enough to protect someone and never will be.
scene 9.
fushiguro megumi is filled with fear when he hears from okkotsu-senpai that someone is after his life.
zen’in naoya.
he never thought that a zen’in would come after him, but he eventually learns that there was an agreement that he became the clan head as soon as gojo-sensei was sealed.
he’s engulfed in fear.
while the positions yields more convenience for him, it also meant having more dangers to consider and deal with.
megumi is frightened of the thought of not meeting itadori again.
and he has to wait for a few more hours before he knows what happened after okkotsu-senpai left to deal with the situation.
he only curls up to his knees, helpless as ever.
interlude.
“so start by saving me, itadori.”
when he uttered those words, it brought the light back to yuuji's eyes, and the life to his heart.
scene. 10
fushiguro feels nothing but safe.
he feels safe again in itadori’s presence.
the scars that shaped over his face were remnants of a painful memory, but it was beautiful.
his lips ghost over them — smooth over roughness, softness on skin, peach to creme — yuuji does nothing but let it be as he showers him in affirmation.
“you tried to kill yourself. again.” itadori voices as he glances up megumi’s pair of emeralds with quirked eyebrows.
“i did not.” he sulks with a pout, cupping the apple of his cheeks with tender warmth. he thumbs the forming tears away in silence, only to meekly say, “i’m sorry. i wasn’t particularly thinking right that time. it’s not an honorable excuse but it’s all that i have.”
“it’s okay.” yuuji mumbles, pulling him in to a fleeting kiss — quick, gentle and passionate, like a butterfly.
“what’s important is you’re here with me right now.”
fushiguro megumi finally feels safe.
— つづく